


Christmas to Remember

by kaiface



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: AU in which Erica and Boyd don't run away at the end of season 2, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-10
Updated: 2012-12-10
Packaged: 2017-11-20 18:36:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/588434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaiface/pseuds/kaiface
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Erica is surprisingly helpful and gives Stiles and Derek their Christmas present early. Hint: it's each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmas to Remember

**Author's Note:**

> I've been mulling over this idea for a couple of weeks now after a conversation with skeevy-skeeve and sourgreenapples on Tumblr. Someone on here already sort of beat me to it with a Peter/Isaac fic, but I figured I'd go ahead and post mine anyway, since it's a double dose of Sterek and Pisaac. Written in one go while imbibing alcohol, so if it's bad...that's probably why.
> 
> Enjoy!

As soon as December hits, something in the air changes, like a shift in the wind. Beacon Hills is alive and bustling, everyone making plans for Christmas, talking about gifts, even exchanging them early. Everything is suddenly covered in red and green, twinkling lights, sparkling tinsel and garland. It's worse at school, with some teachers installing miniature Christmas trees in their classrooms, ornaments hanging from the ceilings in the halls, and a large tree decorating the cafeteria.

Erica isn't too concerned with Christmas, she never really has been. Her family isn't big on celebrating it, and she had always had a problem with the usual traditions of viewing Christmas lights, having snowball fights (on the years they had snow), or anything else, because of her epilepsy. So instead of spending time at home with her family, she spends it at the Hale house with Boyd, Isaac, Derek, and his attractive but slightly off-putting uncle. She also spends a good portion of her time watching Stiles.

It isn't like she really has that much of a crush on him anymore (okay, maybe she has a small one, but that's not the point), she's just more concerned about him than anything else. He seems different after the whole business with the Argents, and the news of an alpha pack approaching almost seems like the last thing on his mind. Fair enough, she guesses, since Stiles isn't a werewolf, he has a right to be disinterested in their problems; it just isn't like him.

She watches him as he goes through classes, lacrosse practice (he's team co-captain with Scott now, since Jackson decided to take a semester off after his traumatic revenge-lizard experience, directly followed by his transformation into a werewolf), and homework like some kind of drone, like he isn't really there. Erica gets even more concerned at this, although she'd never directly admit it, but she's also irritated at Scott that he hasn't even seemed to notice what his best friend is going through.

So she decides to do something about it.

It's Thursday - their last day of school until the new year, and also the last Thursday before Christmas – when she follows him home from school. Well, more like beats him to his house and waits (im)patiently in his room. Stiles doesn't notice anything is amiss until he gets up to his room and sees the girl laid out on his bed, looking comfortable but very out of place.

“What is it with you wolves? Do normal laws not apply to you or something? Because there's this thing called 'breaking and entering'-”

“Shut up, Stiles,” she cuts him off, swinging her feet to the floor as she sits up. With her hands pressed into the mattress on either side of her, she gives him a sweet but distinctly predatory smile. He doesn't say anything else. “Good. Now, you're going to sit down and tell me what's got your panties in a bunch lately. You're tense, and it's freaking us out.”

“Why is it you all think you can come into my house and tell me what to do? Wait, who's us?” He turns his computer chair to face his bed and sits himself down in it, looking exhausted but too curious to not ask.

“The pack,” she gives the non-specific reply first, although there is one particular member of the pack that seems more concerned than the rest.

“The _pack_ ,” he repeats back at her flatly, looking very unimpressed. “Look, it's not really anybody's business, especially not 'the pack'.” He makes finger-quotes around the word with his hands, then drops them back to his lap tiredly. “So if you have something actually important to talk about, then you can stay. If not, then please, please go away so I can do my homework without feeling lurked upon.”

Erica sighs, dropping her cheek to one shoulder as she tilts her head, looking across the space at him in silence. She waits, hoping maybe if they sit like this long enough, the dam that contains all of Stiles' inner thoughts will finally burst. He stares for a minute, shifts uncomfortably, then takes a deep breath.

Ah, Erica thinks, here we go.

“It's just, I'm tired, you know? All this crap with Scott and Allison and the pack and Derek-” he ruffles the hair on his head that has grown out a little bit in the few months since their last major encounter, and she silently admires it. It suits him, she thinks. “And it's Christmas coming up and I've never really dealt with Christmas well since my mom, and my dad doesn't like to celebrate anymore even though we still have all of our decorations, he doesn't even like it if I put them up in the house, and...”

He trails off, hands making unfamiliar gestures before finally dropping, and Stiles leans back in his chair, looking up at the ceiling like it just told him his favorite pet died.

Erica stays silent for a minute, knowing that's what he needs right now, but after a minute of holding her tongue, she says, “So, just to clarify, you're upset because of Christmas?”

“No,” Stiles lifts his head again, shrugs, nods, “Yeah, I don't know. I guess. Other stuff, too, but that's pretty high on the list.”

“What other stuff?” she pries.

“Nothing,” he answers quickly, knows he's lying, and hates himself for it when Erica's face lights up at the sound of his increased heart rate.

“Bullshit,” her tone is almost sing-song as she looks at him, lips curled up in a smirk. “Come on, tell me what's on your mind. Are you still mad that your friend is getting laid and you aren't?”

Stiles snorts, shaking his head, but doesn't answer right away. After a beat, he says, “He's not getting laid anymore. They broke up.”

“I know. But that's it, isn't it? You're...what, lonely? Horny? Still pining for Lydia-I'm-better-than-you-and-I-know-it-Martin?” She's not trying to tease him, she tells herself, but he just makes it so easy. And when he gets that kicked-puppy look at the mention of Lydia, she knows she's hit the nail on the head.

“Look, can we just drop it? I told you what's been on my mind, so you can go,” he says without any force, turning away from her to boot up his computer. He starts typing as soon as it's up, but he can see her in the reflection on the screen and sighs. “What?”

“You're still brooding,” she observes as she stands up, stretching. She trails a clawed finger across the back of his neck and he shudders, pulling away and covering the spot with a hand, glaring at her as she leans over the back of his chair to look at him. “You should talk to Derek. He's been worried about you. He's also an expert on brooding; maybe he can give you a few pointers.”

And with that she's gone - out his bedroom door like a normal human being, Stiles notes, and isn't that rare? - and he's left staring at where she was standing.

-

The next day in school, he convinces Isaac (after some bribing) to switch seats with him in chemistry so he can talk to Erica. Scott is worried, and slightly perturbed, but obviously happy to get a chance to talk to Isaac for once. Stiles is whispering in low tones to Erica as soon as they're both seated, even though he knows that Scott and Isaac can hear him a few tables over.

“Hey, look, I was thinking that since dad and I don't use our Christmas decorations, do you think Derek would let you guys use them?” This is not the question Erica was expecting, and she gives him an almost startled look before settling back into her usual sexy, semi-smug expression.

“Sure, why not? We'll just put them up without asking. It's not like he'll have the heart to say no once it's already done,” she answers a bit flippantly, as Isaac leans over and taps Stiles gently on the shoulder. 

Stiles turns his attention to him as Isaac asks, “You're giving us your decorations? Are you sure your dad won't mind?”

“Positive,” is the reply, and Stiles feels himself smiling for the first time in maybe a week, feeling surprisingly lighter with this decision. Maybe a little Christmas cheer will help Derek and the pups wind down a little.

-

Erica picks the three large boxes of Christmas decorations up from Stiles' house after school, and manages to get them back to the burnt-out Hale house with a little help from Boyd and Isaac. When they arrive at the house, Erica is glad that Derek and Peter seem to be conveniently absent. Isaac disappears into his room to do his homework (lame) and Erica enlists Boyd yet again to help her unpack the decorations in the living room, which has received new floorboards, drywall, and looks significantly better than most every other room in the house.

About an hour later, they have the fake tree up, decorated in colorful glass ornaments (Erica sets aside the ones that have names on them or look like they might have some kind of sentimental value, making a mental note to return them to Stiles some time over the weekend), and they're busy tacking up garland in arches over the windows and door frames when Isaac returns from his room. He pauses in the main doorway to the living room, taking in the spectacle with a look of awe that makes Erica wonder what sort of face he made as a kid on Christmas morning. 

“Guys, it looks great in here,” he says honestly, and they stop to admire their own handiwork.

“Yeah, it really does,” Boyd admits, dusting his hands off on his jeans and flashing Erica a smile which she returns with a flip of her hair.

“You guys can thank me later,” she says, but Boyd snorts and gives her a playful shove, which she returns.

“Thank you? I think you mean thank Stiles, he's the one that gave us all of this,” the taller teen tells her, and she slap his upper arm harder than necessary. Isaac is still standing in the doorway when Peter and Derek enter the house, both stopping just behind Isaac to look at the living room. If Peter's expression is surprised (and it is), Derek's is indescribable, and Erica feels a little bit of pride swell within her at that.

“Oh, the power of teenagers. Leave them alone for a few hours, and look at the things they can accomplish,” Peter snarks, leaning in the doorway opposite of where Isaac is standing. Derek pushes his way between them to look at the living room, gaze finally stopping on Erica and Boyd who are standing together, partners in crime.

“Where did this come from?” Is the first question that makes it out, which Boyd easily answers.

“Stiles gave it to us.”

“Stiles. Of course,” Derek breathes out, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He turns and leaves the room without another word, footsteps falling heavily on the stairs as he take them one at a time for once, all the way up to his room. Erica follows his movements, watching the ceiling until the movement stops, and she drops her arms from where they were crossed over her chest in defense.

“He's not mad,” Peter assures them, just now tugging his gloves and scarf off. He tucks the gloves into the pocket of his jacket and is holding the scarf in one hand as he continues, “He just needs some time to adjust. It's been a long time since he's seen the house like this, I'm sure it's bringing back all kinds of memories.”

“Pleasant or unpleasant?” Boyd asks, and Peter answers, “Both.”

“Guess we'll just have to make this a good Christmas to remember,” Erica shrugs, dropping to sit on the couch with a sigh. She glances at the doorway where Peter and Isaac are standing, glances again, then begins to laugh. Isaac looks more than a little alarmed, looking at her like she may have just lost her mind, and as Boyd notices whatever it is, he gives a short laugh as well. Isaac turns to look at Peter, mouth opening in a question, but stops when Peter points up, smirking.

Isaac follows the finger up, up, up to a sprig of fake mistletoe hanging from the middle of the doorway and his expression morphs into one of irritation.

“How long have you known that was there?” He accuses Peter, and the older man shrugs.

“Since we got back,” Peter answers with a smirk, and Isaac narrows his eyes at the man, shaking his head and moving to leave the doorway. “Ah, ah, I don't think so.”

Isaac feels Peter's knitted scarf loop around the back of his neck a split second before the tug, and he falls right into the kiss. Peter holds him there just a beat longer than necessary before releasing him and leaving the room, scarf still draped around Isaac's neck.

Isaac's face is heating up faster than it ever has in his life, he can practically feel the color rising to it as Erica begins to laugh harder than ever and Boyd looks torn between amused and mildly disturbed. Isaac wraps the scarf the rest of the way around himself and makes a hasty retreat, and Erica sits up from her lounging position – she fell back into the cushions of the couch when she began to laugh so hard – and looks at Boyd with a seriously mischievous grin.

“I have an idea,” she tells him, and he sits down next to her, ready to hear it.

-

It's not until after noon the next day that Erica gives Stiles a call, the teen obviously confused about how she got his number.

“Come over and see the house,” she tells him, and he doesn't have much of a choice. Besides, he has to pick up his family heirloom ornaments anyway, which she adds at the end of the phone call just before she hangs up.

She's sitting with Boyd in the living room, her legs stretched out over his lap on the couch as he reads, Erica staring up at the ceiling in half-thought, half-boredom. She's pretty sure that Isaac is still hiding in his room after the mistletoe incident, probably too embarrassed to look either her or Boyd in the eyes just yet. She's been texting him all morning, trying to convince him to come downstairs with messages like:

_ur rly gonna want 2 see this_

_srsly isaac get ur furry ass down here_

All to no avail, it would seem, since he hadn't even sent her a reply.

Derek has also been shut up in his room since the night before, but when Erica knocked that morning and asked him if he'd come down for training that afternoon, he had grudgingly conceded.

The sound of tires on the leaves and gravel outside draw Boyd's attention first, and she's at the window in a split second, smirk already beginning to form as she watches Stiles slide out of the drivers seat and start a leisurely pace toward the door. Derek is at the bottom of the stairs before Stiles even reaches the porch, shooting a confused glance at Erica as he pulls the door open. Stiles is startled by the sudden movement, but raises his hand in a wave of greeting, a smile spreading across his face.

“Hey, Derek, how's it going?” He asks with more energy than Erica saw him exhibit all that week at school.

“What are you doing here?” Is the first response he gets, which turns Stiles' grin into a scowl.

“Yeah dude, I'm great, thanks for asking,” the teen mutters, pushing past the wolf (Derek tells himself that he allows himself to be pushed aside, only so he can close the door) and entering the house. His face lights up as soon as he makes the turn into the entryway of the living room, and he stops just under the archway, grinning from ear-to-ear at Erica and Boyd.

“It looks great in here, guys!” They can practically hear the joy spilling out in his tone, his eyes darting from tree to lights to garland and back again. “I'm glad you're actually using that stuff, it was literally just collecting dust in our attic – actually, I'm not sure dad even remembered it was there.”

Derek has moved to stand just behind him in the archway, looking from Stiles to the room around them with the barest hint of a smile. He never expected something so simple would break Stiles out of the weird mood he'd been in since the Kanima and Gerard and everything else.

“Here's your stuff,” Erica tells him, handing him a shoebox with the remaining ornaments wrapped carefully in newspaper and tucked closely together. She stays carefully out of the doorway, but he doesn't really notice. “Figured you'd want it, a lot of it looked like it might have been your mom's.”

Stiles takes the box with a softer smile, holding it like the contents might turn to dust if he wasn't careful. She can tell he's truly grateful when he says, “Thanks, Erica.”

Taking a slight step back, she makes a show of looking up toward the ceiling and covering her mouth, although the last bit is mostly to hide her grin.

“Oh, you guys are under the mistletoe!” She coos, and Stiles tilts his head back to look up at the ceiling, only to bump his head into Derek's chest. With a start, the teen turns, looking at Derek looking at him.

“Oh, uh-” Stiles starts, holding the box of ornaments in front of himself like some sort of emotional shield, but Derek has already glanced over his head at Erica, taken her bait, and lifts a hand to hold Stiles' cheek. “Derek?”

“Stiles,” the Alpha replies, tone low. He bends his head slightly, stopping when his mouth halfway to Stiles' and waits. The teen gives a short, breathy laugh before slinging one arm around the wolf's shoulders, pulling him in the rest of the way to seal the kiss. Erica laughs behind him, while Boyd whistles lowly, and Stiles pulls away to flip them both off.

“Hey, you know, you both can go-”

“Stiles.”

His gaze drifts back to Derek and he swallows hard, realizes his arm is still curled around the wolf's neck.

“Yes, Derek?”

“Merry Christmas.”

This time, when they lean in for a kiss, the pups are silent.


End file.
